Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Jealousy	By : brandnewdaydawning Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 78819 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Draco Malfoy was early, as was his habit. He knew that Granger would be on the dot and didn't want to arrive after her. The old charms room was cloaked in dust and Draco found momentary reason to regret his decision to meet here. This is what happened when you were too lenient with the help. They got lazy. There was no excuse for the state of this room, the house elves were probably too busy ducking liberation to be about their jobs properly. "Dobby!" He snapped, and was not surprised when with a clap the small elf appeared at his side.
Draco chose to graciously ignore his ridiculous apparel, a badly matched tuxedo, several different colorful socks layered one over the other, and a teetering tower of what looked to be knitted hats. Instead he gestured to the room and Dobby squeaked, his face turning even more ashen, quite obviously mortified to find the room in such awful repair. The little elf immediately called for reinforcements and Draco left them to it, confident that they could carry on without his supervision.
That was how Granger found him, indolently lounging up against the wall in the corridor. She must have been running behind because she flew around the turn quickly, slowing to a walk, and smoothing down her hair before she caught sight of him. Her mouth instantly tightened in annoyance, whether at the sight of him, or because he had witnessed her hurry, he didn't know. But even the pinched look of her mouth didn't detract much from the whole picture.
She had wild unmanageable hair. On an eleven-year-old girl, it had looked huge and frizzy. On a young woman, it was sensual and sexy, spiraling down her back in chocolate waves. Her features were fine and chiseled, almost doll-like in their porcelain perfection. He especially liked her lips, red and pouty, like she had just eaten a bowl of ripe strawberries. She was slender and tall, and fit him perfectly. She would be a vision on his arm…if he could keep her persuaded long enough.
Her scent reached him first, floral and light. He didn't speak, or bother to stand upright even when she planted herself in front of him. "Why are you in the hall? I thought you wanted to be discreet." She whispered. He could tell she was still angry with him about this morning, but she had a good head on her shoulders and kept her voice low. Just then Dobby came out of the room behind them and announced that the classroom was clean, if Master would like to inspect it.
"Thank you, Dobby. There is no need for me to inspect, your work has always been excellent." The little elf glowed with satisfaction as he popped away; unfortunately, his enthusiasm was not contagious. His girl was practically hissing fire at him under her breath, about elf rights, inhumanity, slave labor, blah blah blah…She seemed to be quite worked up and it wasn't long before she was pointing a finger at him and jabbing it towards his midsection threateningly.
"Hermione relax. Dobby doesn't mind. He enjoys the work…" But she talked right over him about how wizards like him thought this and that. Merlin, she was adorable. Her eyes flashed up at him, wide hazel orbs that shone with emotion. He found himself focusing on her lips as they moved rapidly, her finger getting closer and closer to his chest with each jab. He liked her voice too, soft without being shrill, husky without being deep. Melodious. That was the word he was looking for. Her finger brushed his robes in its enthusiasm and before he could think about what he was doing he had grasped her wayward hand in his and tugged her close enough to kiss.
The look on her startled features was priceless as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was open in a soft O and soft and pliant against his. He brushed up against her gently before nibbling and exploring her lips.
She tasted good
Like Honey
When he felt her tentatively kiss him back, his whole body shuddered in a reaction so powerful that he pulled away before it could overwhelm him. She stared up at him, wide eyed with parted lips. He knew he must look just as dazed but couldn't seem to master his expression and force it into something resembling his usual nonchalance. Her hand rose slowly and she pressed trembling fingers to her lips, as if testing that they were still under her command before she spoke in hushed whispered tones, as if the walls were listening.
"What was that?"
Hell if he knew. His whole body was still strumming with awareness of her. Her scent was sharper, her breath mingled with his, and his lips stung with the loss of her touch.
"The only way to shut you up." He finally managed a friendly grin, releasing her hand and giving her silent permission to move away. She didn't however step back and let him get his raging emotions under control. She continued to stare up at him, charmingly bewildered, her small hand pressed to her lips. "Besides we need to practice."
Something about that last sentence seemed to jog her from her temporary complacency and she jumped back from him abruptly, a gasp echoing loudly down the hall. "There will be no need for THAT kind of practice." She hissed angrily. He couldn't help but smile at her, a crooked arrogant smile.
"Well maybe I don't need any practice, but I'm sure Weasley left some loopholes in your education…"
"We are not talking about this." She said coldly, putting her delicate nose in the air and staring him down angrily. Putting him on familiar ground, because the truth was he was used to her anger having roused it many times over the years. "We aren't talking about this or any other private matters."
The hall was blessedly empty. He wouldn't have minded if anyone had witnessed an impromptu kiss between quarrelling lovers, but he certainly didn't want anyone listening in on the conversation that was sure to follow. He opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him and for a moment he thought she would refuse. She paused long enough to worry him before miraculously without argument she breezed through the door, turning sharply to face him, as if unwilling to have the enemy at her back. Charming. And how very Slytherin of her.
He thought about telling her so, as she started to hiss at him about never touching her again, and shut the door behind him. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed her cooperation on this. He could not make the plan work without her wholehearted participation.
"Granger…Hermione, even you, in your limited experience can't possibly believe that we'll be able to pull this whole thing off to a tee, and never touch each other."
She tossed her hair, a surprisingly feminine move that left him slightly unbalanced. His eyes traced over the bouncy shinning locks as they tumbled back around her face. What he had originally thought to be chaos apparently had some unidentified order, because the same curls fell into the same places.
"Are you even listening to me?" She shrieked, breaking through his mental fog with piercing brutality. He also hadn't heard her shriek and silently resolved to make it his mission that she felt the need to do so as little as possible.
"Holding hands, hanging out together, walking together, a friendly hug! Honestly Malfoy there are plenty of subtle ways to portray a relationship where your lips don't even remotely touch mine." He parroted in a sing song feminine voice, quoting her verbatim. The three seconds of silence her shock earned him were so precious. It was a talent of his, useful in classes like Transfiguration, being able to pay attention with only half a mind.
"Don't mock me!" She bit out, each word heavy with fury, her pointy finger coming into play once again.
"Look Granger, not that this little spat isn't fun, but I really don't want to spend my free time with you outside of our plan. We're not exactly bosom buddies, so if we could move this little planning session you requested further toward the actual planning…"
She huffed.
Her hands crossed under her breasts and her breath came in short little bursts. Another one of her attitudes he was familiar with. She huffed like that every single time she got shot down in potions, every time Snape belittled her. He found himself oddly pleased that he was worthy of such huffiness.
"We've been spotted together a few times; I don't think it would be moving too fast to sit together in a few classes."
She opened her mouth to protest but he plowed over her.
"Not any classes with Potter or Freckles though. As fun as it would be, fighting with them over your honor is counter-productive." He waited for her to speak and when she remained silent but thoughtful he continued. "That leaves Arithmancy and Astronomy. We'll be picking new partners in Astronomy; I think we ought to pair up."
"That doesn't seem too bold…" She bit down on her bottom lip with white even teeth, gnawing on it gently while she thought. "There are several Ravenclaws in that class though, Natasha and Sean are especially observant. We'd have to be careful to stay in character…"
He stepped closer to her and she tensed unconsciously, giving him a wary look. "You're right…Hermione…; they'll pick up on subtle hints." He sneered at her, twisting his lips in a practiced condescending scornful look. "For example, looking skittish at the very thought of my touching you."
She opened her mouth to protest but he reached out and cupped her face in his hands, touched her hair, brushed his thumb over her lips. "People who are in love look at each other like they're in love. They lean into each other; they sit close, touch often." She stared up at him alright, wide eyed and terrified, breath coming in short little pants, her body practically trembling with the need to move away from him. So not the impression he was going for.
"Relax…" He breathed and she squeaked. He sighed and scrubbed his brain trying to find a way to make her act like any of the simpering brainless pureblood girls who traipsed after him constantly. Fun to dally with, but they would get him absolutely nowhere in the big scheme of things. Even with his fertile imagination he couldn't even remotely picture Granger batting her eyelashes up at him and pouting prettily because he paid her no mind at lunch…He dropped his hands and walked across the room, turning and walking back, giving into his undignified desire to pace.
"I'm not the only one who needs to practice; you keep hesitating on my name, and sneering at me." She snapped without much venom, apparently needing to fill the void in conversation.
"If I quit sneering, people will assume Poly-juice. That will get us nowhere." He answered back absently. She giggled, and he looked at her sideways, disturbed. Granger did not giggle.
"Sit down." He said, resigned to donating more of his time to this little project this evening, when what he really wanted to do was work on his game at the pitch.
"Why?" She asked, entirely too suspicious. Who knew she was so paranoid about simple things? Did every little thing need a detailed explanation?
"I can't help you with the stage fright, but if you were more accustomed to my touch you might not jump around like a frightened first year every time I brush up against you."
She sat down on a gleaming student bench. "I really don't think there will need to be all that much touching…I'm not comfortable with this Malfoy."
"Draco." He corrected. Her shoulders were tense and hunched over, and she started violently when he laid his hands on them. Slow firm circles with his thumbs, pressure with his palms; he massaged her shoulders and neck and was delighted to find that almost immediately her head fell forward to give him better access.
"Draco…Where did you learn to do that?" Her voice had softened, to almost a purr and it washed over him like waves of dark chocolate. He found the pressure points at the base of her skull and manipulated them deftly for a moment before sweeping his hands back down to her shoulders and rolling her flesh between his fingers. She was melting like butter.
"I could call you Mia Cara." He said, lowering his voice an octave, trying to sound soothing and non-threatening.
"You aren't Italian."
"I could call you Cariña…"
"You aren't Spanish." She replied, leaning into his touch. He swept his hands down over her arms to her fingers and back again. She tilted his head back into his chest and her eyes fluttered shut. If he wasn't careful he'd put her to sleep. His mind flashed briefly to a ludicrous fantasy that involved him carrying her sleeping form down to the Slytherin dormitories and laying her out on his smooth silky sheets.
"Pêche?"
"Peach, why peach?" Her skin was soft and silky and she didn't jump when he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her clean subtle scent. Trust her to ask. He couldn't very well say, 'because you're ripe for the plucking my sweet' and expect her to stay supple and pliant in his hands.
His lips brushed against the soft spot under her ear and the spell was broken. She stood abruptly, spinning to face him, her voice higher pitched.
"Well, that's enough practice. I um feel much better, thank you." She blushed a pretty sunset as she edged towards the door. "I'll see you in class then, we'll partner?"
He nodded and she was gone, leaving her light floral scent in her wake.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Jealousy